


Headless Horse-man

by mikawritesthings



Series: Cryptostuck [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Cryptid Hunting, Decapitation, Dullahan - Freeform, Gen, Metafiction, Short & Sweet, cryptostuck, dramatic shift in tone, lets hope the homestuck skin actually works for me this time, part of a series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-19 12:31:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18969340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikawritesthings/pseuds/mikawritesthings
Summary: Dirk messages his brother at 3 AM with a very vague, very ominous emergency.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, time for a shift away from the typical Cryptobusters episode format! Be warned: this installment in the series marks kiiiiiind of a change in tone. Also, keep in mind that I haven't read the epilogues.

\---timaeusTestified [TT} began pestering turntechGodhead [TG}---

TT: Dave, I hate to say it, but I need your help.

TG: its 3am and youre at a furry convention

TG: and i your humble baby bro am the first person you turn to for help

TG: so who got stabbed by a bowsette cosplayer this time

TT: What? No. This isn’t that type of emergency.

TT: This emergency requires your specific area of expertise.

TG: as in cryptobusters

TG: as in you got ghosts hangin out in your hotel room

TT: Yes, Cryptobusters. But no, no ghosts are involved. Don’t make an episode out of this.

TG: at least specify the this youre talking about

TT: Look, it’s hard to explain in text, alright? Just get over here ehfeiwuahj

TG: whats up with the keysmashing

TG: thought you werent that type of gay

TG: also i kinda sorta cant drive so i kinda sorta have to bum a ride off john

TG: is that cool

TG: dirk?

TG: oh

TG: shit


	2. The Carnage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've already got this fic planned out, so updates will be very close together.

The boys first try the obvious: knocking.

A muffled thump, like someone falling off a bed, issues from within Dirk’s room.

They follow it up with a more vocal approach

JOHN: dirk? are, uh, are you okay in there?

A faint sigh, followed by what sounds like someone saying “no” from under several yards of fabric.

DIRK: I’m in the sorry situation of being unable to fucking see.

DIRK: I’m stuck in this stupid fursuit in a very specific way, and movement is less restricted and more the kind of thing that would be accompanied by the Benny Hill soundtrack.

JOHN: what does that even mean?

DAVE: i can serve as a dirk to english translator

DAVE: it means he probably cant open the door

DIRK: Correct.

DAVE: i dont know how to hotwire hotel room door locks dirk

DAVE: can you like

DAVE: at least *try* to open the door

There is a shuffling sound of fabric on fabric, a brief pause, and then the sound of a heavy-footed stumble towards the door. From directly behind the door issues the unmistakable sound of a full-on collision, followed by several attempts at fumbling for the doorknob. Finally, the door creaks open, and a misshapen Rainbow Dash tumbles into the hallway.

DAVE: this is a hot mess of a situation

DAVE: how ya doin bro

DIRK: It’s good that you brought John, because this might be more of a two-man operation.

DIRK: Just haul me to the bed, Weekend at Bernie’s style. I don’t think I can preserve much more of my dignity via independent movement.

John and Dave oblige, walking to either side of Dirk’s prone form and lifting him to a standing position. It takes a few tries, but Dirk is able to grab onto their shoulders for support. It’s just as John is closing the door behind with his free hand that Rainbow Dash’s multicolored bandanna unravels, and the fursuit’s head falls off.

Leaving a completely empty space where Dirk’s head should be.


	3. Oh, Shit,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the few of you who are actually sticking with this teeny-tiny installment. This little fic was fun to write. (Minor CW for vomit in this chapter.)

JOHN: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

DAVE: WHAT

DAVE: THE FUCK

Dirk speaks again, this time his voice coming from inside Rainbow Dash’s severed head.

DIRK: Well, shit. I was hoping this wouldn’t happen.

JOHN: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

DIRK: Listen, I can explain, but I can’t give any kind of speech if you continue screaming.

DAVE: ok thats cool bro whatever you say my dude

DAVE: hang on a second while i go violently yarf into the toilet

Dave rushes off to the room’s adjoining water closet, leaving Dirk’s right arm hanging awkwardly into thin air. Over the sound of his own drawn-out screams, John can indeed hear him violently yarfing into the toilet.

JOHN: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Someone in the next room over groans, muttering “shut the fuck up.”

DIRK: John, I am begging you to calm down and just walk my feeble headless body to the bed.

DIRK: It’ll be easier to do this thing if I’m sitting.

John makes a motion less like gently guiding Dirk’s body to the bed and more like hastily dropping it. Gingerly, the body sits upright.

JOHN: WHAT????????

Dave steps out of the bathroom, wiping his mouth.

DIRK: Is that Dave? I know you just vomited, but I need you to extricate my head from the Rainbow Dash mask.

DAVE: why couldnt this have been a normal furry related emergency

DAVE: why did this have to turn out like that nightmare i had one time

Despite his complaints, Dave picks up the Rainbow Dash head. Wincing, he grabs the mane with one hand and reaches into the mask with the other.

DIRK: Ow. Watch the face.

Dave yanks out the contents of the Rainbow Dash head, to reveal the severed head of Dirk Strider. His head appears completely normal: as rosy-cheeked and intact as that of a living human, aside from the clear lack of anything below the neck. Somehow, his anime sunglasses have remained on.

DIRK: Alright, that’s better.

With much less disoriented motion, Dirk’s body stands up from the bed, casually walking over to grab its head from Dave. Dirk sits back down, his head balanced in his lap. The other two lads look at him in stunned silence. Off camera and without the slightly more competent half of their team, the Cryptobusters are stumped.

DIRK: I imagine you have questions.


	4. Time For Dirk's Exposition

DIRK: To put a label on my particular brand of fucked-up-ness, I’m a dullahan.

DAVE: bruh how

DAVE: a dullahan is a fae whos like an ancient omen of death and punishes people for their hubris by throwing his nasty ass rotting head at them

JOHN: or the ghost of someone who lost their head in ye olde war?

JOHN: no, that explanation doesn’t make any sense either.

DAVE: ive known you my entire life

DAVE: youd have to be about 300 and youve only got like 3 years on me man

Dirk pauses for a second, as if choosing his next words carefully.

DIRK: Have I?

Those two words hang in the air like puffs of some cartoonish poisonous gas.

DAVE: what

DIRK: Have I only got 3 years on you?

DIRK: Then why wasn’t I in high school with you and Rose? Or middle school? Or elementary school?

DAVE: i

Dave pulls John aside.

DAVE: john you went to school with us

DAVE: you had to have seen dirk around at *some* point

DAVE: wasnt he just really reclusive and shit

JOHN: i...i can’t remember.

JOHN: dave, i don’t think i ever saw him in school with us.

Horror dawns in the boys’ minds as they search their memories.

JOHN: dave, i don’t…

JOHN: i don’t think dirk was ever a kid.

DAVE: before

DAVE: before i was like 13

DAVE: i dont think i even remember dirk being my brother

DIRK: Now you’re getting it.

The room is a lot darker now. All the remaining light seems to be seeping towards Dirk.

JOHN: but how????????

JOHN: how the actual fuck did you just wedge yourself into everyone’s brains? shouldn’t someone have realized?

DIRK: Illusion magic isn’t the only way to hide in plain sight. Visual illusions aren’t an option for me, considering the logistics of losing my actual fucking head from time to time.

DIRK: My solution was a kind of mnemonic misdirection.

DAVE: i dont even wanna start on how much of an ethical shitfest that is

DAVE: my question is why did you hide in plain sight as my brother

DAVE: where you had to do your surface level memory wipe on me AND mom AND rose

DAVE: why couldnt you have just been dirk the weird guy who makes dolls as a side hustle and can be seen at starbucks sometimes

DIRK: Excellent question. One that I can’t give even a semblance of a straightforward answer to.

DIRK: The best answer I can give is that it’s to preserve the structural integrity of this narrative.

JOHN: what do you mean, “narrative?”

A slight smile crosses Dirk’s face. He reaffixes his head to his shoulders with a mildly upsetting squelch. The gap around his neck closes, leaving nothing but a faint scar. Dirk ties the Rainbow Dash bandanna around his neck and stands up, once again looking like his mundane self.

DIRK: Ask Bec.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, thanks for reading this. I honestly didn't expect things to go this way. Dirk kind of pulled a Detective Pony on me.


End file.
